Ten Lessons Draco and Harry Learned
by deadlyxchagrin
Summary: But perhaps there is one lesson they didn't learn?


A Comet Appears

Ten Lessons Draco and Harry Learned and One They Didn't

1. Harry Potter has long since accepted that things don't always go as planned.

In the days of his youth, the boy had been notorious for his Gryffindor luck, surviving impossible threats and breaking all sorts of rules no other student had managed. Except, for his father perhaps, but that was another story. Many had attributed this to Harry's immense amount of skill and power, but Harry knew better. Luck, fate, the gods, or whatever once chose to believe in was just on his side back then. In his seven years at Hogwarts alone he'd transformed from The Boy Who Lived to The Boy Who Just Never Damn Died, Did He?

Time had passed, though, and with it Harry's luck faded. For whatever reason-his graduating school, Voldemort's death, his _own_ death-the luck disappeared leaving Harry just an average person with a funny looking scar on his head.

So Harry went with it, living his life with the full knowledge that not everything goes as planned. For instance, his relationship with Ginny, which had fallen into rubble not even a year after they'd gotten back together, or Ron and Hermione's baby, the child they lost six months into the pregnancy.

Also, meeting Draco Malfoy in Diagon Alley that fine Sunday afternoon. No, that was never in the plan.

Harry had always been one to over think things, but never one to cause ruckuses. He doesn't like attention, never did, and certainly doesn't want to start a brawl with his schoolboy enemy. So, in response to Malfoy's sneer and glare Harry smiles, opening his mouth to speak.

"Hello, Draco."

The words taste funny on his lips, like milk when he was expecting water. He doesn't think he's ever called Draco Malfoy by his given name, his last name being reference enough. Or perhaps he just never earned the right.

Now, Draco Malfoy hasn't spoken to Harry Potter in years, not since school and the end of the war, but as of recent he isn't one to uphold silly prejudices and belief in what the stupid papers say. They are usually always wrong, especially when they talk about him. So, bearing that in mind Draco decides not to make any snide remarks in Potter's direction and nod politely in attempt to be civil.

"Potter."

Now, Draco never said he was very good at being civil.

All the same Harry's smile never wavers and he learns that afternoon that he can forget old grudges just as easily as the next guy.

2. Harry Potter is certain he believes in fate. How can one have a prophecy written about them and _not_ believe in fate, he wonders.

So when he sees Draco Malfoy twice in one day after not seeing the man for five years Harry knows something akin to fate is intervening.

He's sitting with his friends in The Hog's Head, enjoying their weekly drink and get-together just like any other Sunday when he notices the familiar blonde haired boy sitting alone in the table just adjacent to theirs. Ignoring the strange looks he's getting from his friends, Harry gets up and walks over to Malfoy, his face carefully indifferent.

"You don't have a lot of friends, do you?"

"Is that how you pick up all your men?" Malfoy sneers, looking up from his one lonely drink. Harry inwardly groans, hoping he won't have to sit through another one of those "You're gay!" conversations. He's had enough of those to last him a life time and Harry decided just a day after he came out to never have them again.

"No, just the ones I really fancy," Harry retorts, the echo of a smile on his face. "It's endearing, or so Hermione says."

"Well, Granger hasn't ever known much about anything, has she?"

"What's your problem, Malfoy?" Harry demands, glaring at the man before him. How is it that the ignorant prat can manage to ruin a perfectly good conversation pressed by perfectly good intentions?

"I don't know, Potter. You're the one who's all gung-ho for us talking! Aren't we supposed to be enemies, or something of that sort?"

"You know things change, Draco," Harry sighs, his exterior softening. With Draco Malfoy things can never come easy, so if Harry decides to follow fate and befriend the pureblood he knows it's going to take a lot of patience, or maybe just a lot of determination. Either way, Harry's not backing down.

"Do they?" Draco snorts, ducking his head down. He stars longingly into his drink, letting a moment of silence pass before speaking again. "It sure doesn't feel like they do."

Harry inhales, letting the sort of fresh air cool his lungs before he tries his chances at speaking again.

"So do you want to come sit with us or what?"

That evening Draco learns he really doesn't like change.

3. A pitch black owl taps at Harry's window, pleading to get in. Harry groans, immersed in something far more lazy and entertaining than an owl at the window. Annoyed, Harry slams open the window only to have the grumpy owl drop the letter on the floor and peck at his hair.

"Shove off, stupid bird," Harry mutters, bending down to pick up the letter. The bird doesn't move out of Harry's flat, though, perching smugly on a desk under the window. Harry glares at it before noticing who the letter is from, a large green crest bearing the letter "M" sealing it shut.

Harry opens the letter in earnest, pondering what on earth Malfoy could ever want with him. The letter is written on fancy parchment, smooth to the touch, with large, curly words taking up most of the page.

When Harry is finished reading the letter-right down to the loopy _Draco Malfoy_-he's utterly confused. The letter, similar to the bird that delivered it, is pompous and confusing. It drawls on for hours, it felt, using words Harry didn't even know existed in the English language. Perhaps Malfoy had made a few of them up, but somehow Harry doubts it. Life would make more sense if Harry was just far more ignorant than the blonde prat.

Of course, the owl would not leave without a response, and thus begun the letter war between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

_Malfoy-_

_I don't get it. _

_-H. J. Potter_

_Potter-_

_What's there not to get? How much of an idiot are you?"_

_-Draco Lucius Malfoy_

_Malfoy- _

_I mean, I can't understand a word of what that letter said! Admittedly, I couldn't understand half the words on there. Plus, your sentence structure is just a little too advanced for my plebian mind. _

_-Harry _

_Potter-_

_Oh, god, why do I bother? It is clear that not even your vocabulary is worthy of being in proximity with mine. Here's a hint: There's this book, I'm sure you can find it in any library if you looked hard enough, and it's called a Dictionary. One of the finest muggle inventions of all time, though I regret to say it was a muggle that invented it, but that is besides the point!_

_Check it out and look all those oh-so-difficult words up. If you still don't understand perhaps your Granger friend can assist you. She brains seem to be a step above yours, the muggle born that she is. _

_And if you still don't get it? Well, than suffice to say you're a moron, more so than I thought._

_-Draco _

Harry glares down at the letter, his eyes searing with anger. Draco Malfoy is turning out to be a whole lot more work than Harry thought was worth. He's about to throw down the letter and give the whole thing up entirely when he notices the small scribbling on the bottom of the parchment. He squints his eyes, but glasses are useful for one thing and he reads the answer to all his questions. If only Malfoy could have done this in the first place!

_P.S. There is a party at my house on Saturday. Five-o'clock to midnight. I would appreciate it very much if you attended. Simple enough for you? _

Harry can't help but grin as he carefully sets the letter down and picks up a dictionary.

That night Harry learns fourteen new words.

4. The party is beautiful. The Malfoy Manor, Draco's home, is extravagant and it takes hard work on Harry's part to not ogle at the tasteful event. He has to remember that this is a party and he is the "honored guest," after all. He can't forget his manors.

Harry, at first, was angry to learn that the party was a war anniversary. He wonders if that's the only reason Draco invited him. Was he really being used and why can't they just come to the official anniversary party Harry is forced to attend each ear. His auror senses tingle as he senses something sneaky going on, a sly plot to lure him into endless public events for people he's never met.

"What are you playing at?" he demands of Draco, stomping towards the boy with his best furious face placed in perfection. Draco looks up at him in genuine confusion and hurt, and Harry hates himself for being able to succumb to such simple looks. It isn't fair that Draco has to be so cute with his puppy eyes and hurt expressions-

"I don't know what you mean," Draco mummers, twiddling his thumbs.

"This war anniversary party? What's it for? Wasn't it decided early that there was to be an official one bla blah blah, and now you're using me to be the guest of honor for some stupid social event. I will not-"

"Oh, Potter," Draco groans, interrupting Harry's speech. "You just don't get it do you?"

"What's there to get? I thought," Harry fumbles with his words, not know exactly what he was thinking, but whatever it is it happened to be wrong.

"I did not invite you for publicity. I wanted you to come because-Well, I don't know why I wanted you to come, but I promise there are no alternative motives."

"Then why?" Harry stutters, shaking his head on confusion.

"Look around, Harry!" Draco shouts, holding is arm out towards the large number of guests. "Do you see any similarities between the lot of us?"

"Well-"

"We're all Death Eaters," Draco hisses, leaning in. "Mind you, we're not like that anymore. Before the war ended we chose our side, but long before it started we were known to be on the wrong one. Can you imagine what would happen if any of us attended your stupid ministry party? Chaos! And none of us want to stir up anymore trouble to we celebrate the end of our war together instead.

"Except it's not really the end, is it?" Draco continues, flushed. "Sure, you went ahead and killed You-Know-Who but all those old prejudices are still here. You don't notice; they all adore you, but we see it every single moment of every day."

"I didn't know," Harry whispers, but Draco is not done. He's been holding this in for far too long now. There are too many unspoken words in his head, too many things he has yet to say. It feels good to finally get it all out.

"You know some shops and restaurants don't serve me? The Malfoy name is tainted, the memory of my father etched in everybody's brain. It doesn't matter what _I_ did for the war cause. All that matters is what people remember of my family."

"Are you done?" Harry asks after a moment, preparing himself to say the right words to ease Draco's wounds. It pains him to see the blonde hurt and disrespected like this. He is suddenly thankful for coming and having this conversation, learning the truth about all that has gone on in the past five years.

"Yes, I think so," Draco breathes.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Harry starts, placing a sturdy arm on a broad shoulder. "I never thought to think of you, but you don't deserve this. It isn't fair and it isn't right and I'll be damned if I let it continue-"

"Don't go all hero Gryffindor on me, Potter," Draco snorts, but his face is red with pleasure, his skin warm where Harry touches and soft where his words rest themselves in his heart.

"Fine," Harry agrees, having gained _some_ sensibility in the past five years. "But this treatment will no longer go unnoticed. I am Harry Potter after all, and if I want people to change than they better as well do it!"

"Why, Potter, you're quite sexy when you get all angry like that," Draco teases, relaxed now by Harry's disgruntled presence. His face is red with blush now, realizing the silliness of his words.

"Well, I might as well use this stupid fame and power for something."

Draco smiles in return, patting the other man in approval.

That night, Draco learns he can break all sorts of barriers.

5. _Draco-_

_Step one in my fair treatment plan. You invited me over to your house, so it's only fair I invite you over to mine. See you soon!_

_-Harry_

"Where is everybody?" Draco asks as he's let into the house, a scowl on his face.

"What? Were you expecting me to live with five million people?" Harry laughs, amused at Draco's wandering eyes. He's squinting, examining every inch of Harry's small flat, probably marking down each little detail in his thick little head.

"I thought you were inviting more than just me over," Draco admits sheepishly after his long overview of the small flat. His eyes snap up to meet Harry's, and he is immediately drowning in an ocean of blue.

"No," Harry mutters. "Just you."

Draco nods, standing awkwardly in the doorway. Harry wonders if it was such a good idea to invite him, the two of them all alone in a near empty flat. Draco seems to be afraid to step further, the wheels in his head turning faster than Harry can bear to think about.

"You're embarrassed of me," he finally whimpers, leaning against the door behind him and closing his eyes.

"No!" Harry exclaims, probably too loud for Draco's taste. "I just…"

"Just what? Afraid to tell your friends what sort of company you're keeping? Figures, Potter, always obsessed with what the crowd thinks of him-"

"Draco Malfoy it's not like that and you know it!" Harry shouted, throwing his arms up in the air.

"Then what's it like?"

Harry doesn't have an answer for that, instead choosing to stare blankly at the blonde in front of him. Draco stares back, a silent challenge lingering in the air.

"I don't know," Harry whispers finally, defeated.

"Thought so," Draco grumbles. "I told you the first day that things never change."

"But they, can, Draco," Harry pleads, stepping forward. "If only we let them."

Draco coughs, considering this for a moment.

"Well then we best start with your flat."

"Excuse me? What's wrong with my flat?" Harry inquires, though he is secretly relieved. The tension has left the air, a comfortable feeling replacing it. Harry embraces this, eager to converse with Draco even if it is just light banter.

"It's a mess. Do you ever clean?" Draco scoffs, stepping into the living room and raising his wand. Harry stares curiously, watching Draco do his work. As he mutters spells an occasional insult will slip into his words, things like "How does he manage on his own?" and "He has no sense of dignity."

That afternoon Harry learns seven cleaning spells, three cooking charms, and a million ways how to _not_ act like a proper man.

6. "What is it you want _now,_ Harry, I-" Draco freezes as he enters the room, eyes set in determination to fix whatever Harry's done to break things. He's shocked to see the curious eyes of a handful of Harry's Gryffindors staring up at him.

"Draco, these are my friends. Guys, this is Draco," Harry states like it's the most normal thing in the world to invite over an old arch enemy. Draco smiles shyly, holding up his hand for a wave in a very plebian way. Draco's brain isn't thinking, though, being too concerned with whatever judgments might fall upon him now.

"Hello, Draco," Granger greets politely, holding out a hand. Draco clears his throat, gaining composure quickly.

"Good Evening, Grang- I mean Hermione."

Harry beams like a child in a candy store; Draco almost melts at the liquid look in his emerald eyes.

"I'm not embarrassed of you," he whispers as they sit down and join the group. "I don't mind whether we're alone or in a group as long as you're there."

Draco tries to keep his focus, wanting desperately to prove to Harry that he can be civil to people he doesn't much care for. Yet, with that strong, smooth, voice etched into his memory Draco finds it hard to concentrate on anything.

All the same, Draco finds himself in a quite terrifying conversation with Hermione Weasley, as she is now called.

"She's scaring me, Harry," he hisses while the girl is mid-lecture. Harry just grins, that silly innocent look melting Draco again, so he bravely turns back to Hermione.

All in all, Draco has now learned nine things about Hogwarts, ten about Goblin Rebellion, five about Weasley, and proceeds to think about one-hundred ways he wants to kill himself.

7. Draco was the last person to leave Harry Potter's house that night. Slowly, but surely, as the night went on many grew tired and as life thrust itself upon them they all disappeared.

Draco didn't seem to have a life outside of Harry Potter anymore, though, and to be honest he doesn't really want to go home. The two men sit comfortably together, pleased with the turnout. It had been a bit awkward at first, but slowly they'd all begun chatting like old friends.

Draco is pleased. Yet, he knows he is being impolite by not leaving. Harry is surely tired and wanting to be getting to bed, but it is hard to imagine anything with those eyes staring at him like that…

"Well," Draco coughs, standing. "I best be off."

"Oh," Harry exclaims, surprised as he jumps to his feet. "Let me see you out, then."

"Thank you," Draco responds with a smile. Sometimes he feels as if he's just going through the "polite" motions with Harry. He's sure the slob of a man wouldn't care if he used any polite words. Harry seems to accept him just how he is, a feeling Draco has never quite experienced before.

He's always had somebody expecting something from him and Draco's age old desire has been to please. He wants acceptance. He's surprised to find it in Potter.

Harry holds the door open for Draco, his grin still as bright as when he first opened it. Draco sighs, strange impulses of fate controlling his actions.

"I had a wonderful time tonight. Thanks, again," he goes on, prolonging his departure. Harry nods enthusiastically.

"Me too. You've fit right in. I'm-" the man cuts off, an unrecognizable emotion flickering across his face. "I'm glad you came."

Draco stares, a similar silly grin forming on his face. He steps forward bravely, wondering vaguely if Harry's Gryffindor courage is rubbing off on him, and then presses his lips to the raven haired man.

Harry freezes in a surprise that doesn't last long for he's soon responding, a kiss that's soft and gentle and nothing like either of them have felt before.

Harry's mind is racing, his heart throbbing happily as a whirl of emotions rush through him. Too soon the moment is over, Draco once again not touching him.

"I'll see you later," he comments before leaving, the door shutting lightly. Harry stars in disbelief, not believing what had just happened.

His mouth tastes good now, though, his lips numb and his heart happy.

He learns that late night that Draco is quite the good kisser.

8. That night Draco sits at home, his eyes closed and hand tracing circles over his bellybutton. He can't get his mind off of Harry and the kiss they'd shared together. He can't forget the hospitality the Boy Who Lived showed him, or the way Draco somehow feels saved from all his demons.

He's haunted by the steamy eyes of Harry Potter, plagued by the way his mop of hair falls delicately over his eyes. He dreams of round glasses and lean bodies, tongues that flicker across his mouth and lips that tantalize his every nerve.

Draco can feel himself getting hard, sense the direction his thoughts are turning. It doesn't matter much, though, because nothing could ever rid him of the thoughts of Harry.

When exactly had he fallen in love with this boy? Draco doesn't even bother denying the way he feels about Potter. The sooner he accepts it the sooner he can step forward with his life.

Yet, Draco is scared. Though it had been Potter who'd invited him to all those events it was Draco that made the first move in romances direction. Harry had not denied him the kiss he so craved for, but wasn't it just like the Golden Boy to be polite enough in the moment and then tear out Draco's heart later?

Draco shakes his head.

He learns that evening that he'd suffer through a million of Hermione's lectures for Harry Potter.

9. Harry can't get his mind off the kiss he shared with Draco. It was amazing and magical, beautiful and exiting, perfection all wrapped in a moment. He's afraid, though, because the longer he stays away from Draco the easier doubt is able to creep into his mind.

He hasn't spoken with Draco in weeks and by now Harry's wondering if his memories of Draco Malfoy are nothing more than a dream. The thought pains him and the whole idea of giving up the man he's come to care for disturbs him.

Harry Potter did not let problems go untouched so on that warm Saturday afternoon he stands up and travels to the manor.

"Draco Malfoy!" he shouts, surprised to find that there were no wards keeping him from entering. Surely somebody as wanted as a Malfoy would not let anybody come into their home without special attention.

"I'm right here, Potter," comes a voice from behind and Harry's heart leaps as he turns around.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Harry demands, resisting the temptation to place a hand on his hip.

"Me?" Draco shrieks. "You're avoiding me, not the other way around, imbecile."

"What? No!"

"It's your turn, dammit! I kissed you and so now it is your turn to make the move," Draco grumbles, shaking his head. "No wonder Weaslette dumped you."

Harry stares at Draco, blinking. He's surprised to find that boys are much more straightforward than girls. He'd anticipated a long drawn out fight, but they'd gotten right to the point.

With that Harry steps forward and presses his lips fiercely against Draco's.

"There," he gasps, breaking away. "Now it's your turn."

Draco smirks, pulling Harry close to him. Harry's nerves tingle, his skin warm and pleasant as he lets himself get lost in the kiss.

Harry learns boys are a lot easier than girls that night.

10. Harry's hands are all over Draco's, their lips surgically attached. They're in his room, engulfed in warm arms and soft covers. Clothes are a barrier and Harry eagerly tears them off Draco's body.

"Harry," Draco growls, almost violently pulling off his trousers. Harry grins mischievously, pouncing on Draco's neck as he persists to tease and bite. Draco moans, arching his back.

"Mmmm, you take good," Harry mumbles, bringing his raw lips back up to Draco's.

"Want you now," Draco hisses, and Harry's obliges, bringing his mouth down to suck Draco's throbbing cock.

Draco doesn't last long after that. He's been waiting for this for years, living his life in nothingness up until this very moment. Every decision he's ever made has led up to this and with a burst of energy he comes, breathe ragged.

"Sorry," he mumbles, but realizes then that Harry's come as well. He's still grinning.

"You're beautiful."

That sets Draco off again and his lips are suddenly pressed against Harry's once more.

11. Since they've gotten together Draco has learned a lot of things about Harry. For instance, Harry loves snuggling, can't manage without coffee in the morning, and has a tendency to set things on fire. In turn, Draco has shared pieces of himself with Harry, like how he likes everything clean, enjoys cooking, and what hair products to buy.

Something more than that has been shared, though, a secret truth kept safe in the depths of their souls.

Harry is snuggling up against Draco, burring his head in his shoulder.

"I love you," the raven haired man murmurs. Draco freezes for a moment, meeting the emerald eyes of his lover.

"I love you too," he exhales, pulling Harry closer towards him.

Neither Draco nor Harry learn anything that night. So what if they love each other?

Perhaps they've known this all along.


End file.
